Rueful Celebration
by isnani
Summary: [ONESHOT] It's Koyal's 10th birthday… meaning Paro's 10th year death anniversary. A day of celebrations… and grief.


**Rueful Celebrations**

_A/N: My first Rangrasiya fanfiction! Fwoah! I need to first point out that I still do not know the official correct spelling for Sumer's &amp; Shatabdi's daughter's name. There was a debate whether it was 'Koel' or 'Koyal'. But seeing the typical Indian spelling is the latter, I just went with 'Koyal'. And umm... My apologies for any grammar mistakes. _

* * *

"Happy birthday, Koyal!" exclaimed a small boy as he engulfed his curly-haired cousin in an affectionate bear hug.

"Thank you, Dhruv!"

Several photos were clicked, as Sumer Ranawat, the proud father gathered all the family members around the small table which held a two-tiered cake. His pretty little girl has turned ten years old. He had his daughter invite all her classmates to celebrate her big day; thus the Ranawat Haveli was filled with joyful babbles as children with party hats and balloons took turns to wish their friend a happy birthday.

Amidst all the chatter, Rudra Pratap Ranawat excused himself from the busy hall, earning an understanding look from his Bhabisa.

It was the same every time for the past ten years. How can he forget this day? His wife, Parvati was brutally killed. His beautiful Paro. His titli, so soft spoken and delicate. She did not even get the chance to see Koyal, the new-born girl of the Ranawat family. Till this day, he could never forgive himself for leaving his wife alone in the mansion with his one-month old son. In an attempt to assist and welcome Koyal into this world, he had left his beloved in the hands of her assassin, Shantanu Kumar.

Not that he blamed the little girl on his wife's death. No. Koyal was not in the wrong, nor did he blamed it on his cousin, Sumer… Never. He had no one but himself to blame. He was not there with Paro. His helpless Paro. All alone and unprotected.

Rudra knows that he will never stop blaming himself for his lost. Paro was always confident of her safety and reminded him constantly that she will be safe as long as her rakshak, her sentinel was by her side. But that night, he was not; a fact that he will regret all his life.

As he stepped into the bedroom he once shared with his true love, the painted garlanded portrait of his lovely wife stared back at him, smiling that unwavering smile.

Why? Why must she leave him? He had dreamt their whole life together. Travel the world together. Grow old, seeing their grandchildren grow up together. But no. She was snatched away from him just a month after their first child was born.

What hurt the most was that he could have prevented it. He could have arrived in time and killed Shantanu. But alas, he was too late. His wife had laid in her own pool of blood in their bedroom, breathing her last breathe by the time he found her.

"Waapas aa, Paro," he muttered at the painting. "Waapas aa."

A soft knock disturbed his thoughts. A heavily pregnant woman walked in. Myrah. His second wife. His second chance at love. But… a mere replacement.

Try as he might, he can never love her as much as he had loved his first wife. Despite having astonishingly the same face as Paro, Myrah was just not her. She can never be her.

He smiled and kissed his wife's forehead. Myrah is doing her part in fulfilling Paro's wish for a second child. He will never admit it to her. He married hermainly to keep his promise with Paro. Keeping his Paro happy is his true happiness. He will stay happy with his new family as long as his promise is being kept.

There were still uncountable number of times where he still pictured Myrah as Paro. How can he not? His second wife looks exactly like his first.

He knew he has assured Myrah that he loved her for who she was, but he found that he could no longer keep up with that façade. He could no longer lie to himself. Who is he trying to kid? He knew Myrah have learnt this for a long while by the blank looks he realised he has been giving her often. But till his last breathe, he will attempt to keep her happy, and be happy. For he had a promise to keep.

Another knock was heard at the door. Sumer, his wife, Shatabdi and the birthday girl, Koyal looked at him.

"Kaka, you forgot your cake," Koyal held up a small plate with a pretty slice.

Rudra smiled and knelt down in front of his niece. "Jaanam din mubarako, bachchi."

"Thank you, Kaka. Myrah, aap bi khaa lo, na."

"Sure, birthday girl," grinned Myrah, as she pinched her cheeks.

Koyal then directed her eyes at the large painting on the wall and slowly sauntered forward. "Kakisa, aaj mhari birthday, hai." She paused for a moment before continuing, "Kash aapse mulaqat hamari hoti… I'm sorry."

In a flash, Rudra hugged the little girl. He could not let the innocent child take the blame. Koyal had never apologise for her existence before, at least not in front of him. So why is she apologising now? He had to clear her doubts. Paro will haunt him if he left the poor girl live with that contrition.

"Nahi, beta. Sorry mat boliye. Tera koi dosh nahi hai. Sun rahi hai na, tu?"

Koyal had started sobbing. Her mother came forward and rubbed her daughter's back, trying to sooth her cries.

"Koyal, today's your birthday, na. Be happy. No rona dhona. Theek hai?" Rudrapacified. "Chalo. Your friends are waiting downstairs."

The little girl rubbed her eyes dry as she slowly straightened up. As she did, a rose fell from Paro's portrait rack.

Rudra was stunned, as did everyone in the room. Did that just happen? He stared at the smiling face of Paro.

"There," said Shatabdi. "Thare pyaari Paro kakisa se, tumhare liye khaas birthday gift. Thank you, bolo!"

Koyal smiled happily at the large painting. "Thank you, Kaki!" She sent the portrait a flying kiss before running out of the room shouting, "Dhruv!"

The room slowly emptied out, until the only occupants were Rudra and Myrah. His wife who was quiet the entire time held his shoulder. "Come down and join us again, later."

He felt guilty. He knows his undying love for Paro hurt Myrah. But he is thankful that she was very understanding. She knows that she can never really replace that special place Paro has in his heart. No one ever will.

For him, Paro was forever. Hamesha. "Shukriya, Paro."


End file.
